


This Didn't Happen

by kuonji



Series: Points In Common, side stories, misc. stories, AU story [2]
Category: C6D - Fandom, Wilby Wonderful (2004)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuonji/pseuds/kuonji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First of the Side Stories for Points In Common.</p><p>
  <i>"I was talking to Sandra yesterday. ... We're going to throw you guys stag dos."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Didn't Happen

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative Links:  
> <http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/44040.html>

"I was talking to Sandra yesterday."

Duck gives Buddy a suspicious look. The man can't keep a secret worth beans. Not the happy kind, at least. "And?"

"We're going to throw you guys stag dos."

"Like _hell_ ," is the first thing Duck thinks to say.

"How's two weeks from Saturday for you?"

"Buddy--"

"Go!"

He mutters curses as he sprints up the hill after his friend.

***

"Don't be mad."

Duck groans as he drops onto the couch. Dan is the only person less capable of keeping a secret than Buddy. "About what?"

"Sandra wants to throw me a bachelor's party. She said Buddy would do yours."

"Yeah. He told me."

"Oh? So?"

The note in his voice makes Duck look up. "You want to do this?"

"Well..."

"You're going to let a bunch of women feed you beer and hire you strippers for a night?"

"When you put it like that, it does sound appealing, doesn't it?" Dan's eyes are crinkled up, all shiny, and he's got that shy, one-sided smile on his face that means trouble.

Duck groans again, because he knows he's doomed.

***

They come to pick up Dan at seven sharp. Duck catches a glimpse of Deena and Suzanne and one other person in the back as Sandra hops out and approaches the door to knock.

Despite his earlier anticipation, Dan's looking nervous.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asks Duck, staring out the window as Rebecca honks the horn of her delivery van and waves.

Duck smiles. "Have fun," he urges.

Half an hour later, in time for the next ferry, Buddy arrives with Stan Lastman, Mike Olsen, and also--

"Ted? Does Betty know you're here?"

Ted shrugs. "Buddy promised no alcohol and no girls, so Betty said it'd be fine."

No alcohol is a given. No girls should be true. But Duck has no idea how he can look Ted's wife in the face again if Buddy's itinerary happens to include _boys_.

"Besides, she's in Liverpool with your beau, so she can't say anything." Ted sticks his big, beefy hands in his pockets and leans back with a smile. Duck's sure his eyes have gotten big.

Buddy pulls out a sheet of printed paper from his front pocket and shakes it out with a flourish. This gathers everyone in a circle. "Okay, here's the plan," he says, using his Chief voice, which makes Stan and Mike nearly stand at attention. Duck wipes a hand across his face to hide the grin that's emerging in spite of himself. They haven't even started yet, and the night's already surreal. "I have here a list of activities. The bride here," he points at Duck and the guys chuckle as Duck scowls predictably, "is going to tell us what we're going to do."

"Fair enough," Duck says, reaching for the list.

Buddy whips it away. "He's going to tell us what we're going to do by picking a number from this list." He levels a grin at Duck. "We'll get through as many as we can, and if we run out, we start making them up. One through twelve, Duck. What'll it be first?"

"Wait a minute--"

"You can think about it on the way. Let's head out." He folds the list up and leads the way out to the car.

***

Number four turns out to be something they can do right on the deck of the ferry.

"I thought you quit," Duck points out, when Buddy pulls out five cigars, a cutter, and a box of matches.

"Special occasion," Buddy replies airily. "Did you want to skip?"

Duck plucks his out of Buddy's hand before he can withdraw it.

They have to show Mike how to smoke his at first. Stan is surprisingly knowledgeable. It turns out he'd been the one to procure them. He'd chosen well. It's good, rich and musky with a touch of South American spiciness, and it lasts until they get to Saint John and through a leisurely stroll along the lit, bustling streets.

Duck's feeling mellow when he says, "Let's do eleven next."

***

Number eleven involves finding a body of water.

"Where the hell did you get these?" Duck shouts at Buddy through chattering teeth as he pulls his sweater back over his head.

"I cribbed some ideas from the internet, but mostly I wrote them myself." Buddy's already tying his shoes. The back of his neck is pink with cold. Ted and Mike are pulling a yelping Stan out of the water.

"I don't think they were meant for _February_ , you crazy arsehole!"

"Then why'd you jump in?"

Duck glares at him.

"Come on. Number two will warm you up."

***

It does.

***

Buddy and Duck lean against the wall outside the store while the other guys argue back and forth inside. Mike's the picture of wriggling, embarrassed, but avid curiosity. Stan stares in open-mouthed awe and talks in a too-loud voice like he's in a foreign country. Ted, ignoring them both, stops to read the backs of each of the DVD covers with apparent ease.

"I think you'd better give them a hand before they get something with goats in it."

"I'm still not speaking to you," Duck reminds him.

***

Number eight requires Duck to wear tinfoil for a while. Ted and Buddy carry him down the street while he makes decrees in Martian. He rather enjoys that one.

***

For future reference, orange juice and chocolate are not a good mix.

***

Duck flatly refuses to sing. He says the screen hurts his eyes. So Buddy sits on him while Stan threatens to tie a blindfold around his head.

Angry rock songs are surprisingly fun to hammer out.

***

It's a good thing they all like seafood.

***

Number five is a bit complicated due to the late hour and winds up halfway abandoned. Mike, who is suspiciously confident in leather gear, looks stunningly hot. Buddy only thinks he does. Stan and Ted are content with jackets. Duck, in a moment of sentimentalism that he gets ribbed for mercilessly, chooses cowboy chaps.

In retrospect, they should have rented the motorcycles before renting the costumes. Not even three guys with police badges seem convincingly innocent when one is in a leather harness and another in a studded collar. Duck's sorry he doesn't have a camera.

***

Buddy, at one point in his life, must have been a frustrated mime. There is no other explanation for number twelve.

***

They down ten rounds of club soda while the guys take turns giving advice for the Big Night. Duck is alternately amused and horrified by their efforts. Now and again, one suggestion sounds... _interesting_ , though Duck knows better than to let them know that.

Ted in particular has a remarkably good imagination. Reading all those DVD covers must have inspired him.

***

Number seven is saved for last. For Duck, it's like going back in time. He doesn't need alcohol to get buzzed on the late hour and the thrumming music, and that high makes having the guys from Wilby around him seem almost natural. The collision of his past, present, and future seems no more disconcerting than anything else that has happened this night.

The dim lighting does good things to Buddy's smile, making him look like the cocky, bold lacrosse team captain that he used to be. He's relaxed and just as drunk on the night as Duck is, knocking back root beer and Mountain Dew and leaning to shout comments into Mike's ear that make the young officer blush. Mike, wide-eyed, stays glued to the bar and downs about five liters of cola to keep from bursting into spontaneous flame. Duck laughs as he pushes a bemused Ted onto the dance floor, imagining describing it all to Betty tomorrow. And Stan...

Stan can fucking _dance_. Who knew?

***

They get back around five-thirty in the morning, on the first ferry.

Dan stumbles in the door just minutes after Duck and they crawl into bed together twenty minutes later, clean if not exactly coherent.

"How was your night?" Duck asks his fiancé.

"Isn't there some rule about how you're not supposed to ask?"

"Yeah. So how was your night?"

"It was... different. How was yours?"

Duck ponders his answer. Then he tells Dan about number two.

They're both wiping tears from their faces as dawn breaks cold and clear over Wilby Island.

END.

**Author's Note:**

> Info here for [cigars](http://www.cigartrends.com/) and [Nova Scotia sunrises](http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/astronomy.html?n=286&month=2&year=2005&obj=sun&afl=-11&day=1).
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, you might try these:    
>      [Heart Begone](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/15257.html) (Stargate SG-1), by kuonji  
>      [Defiled](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2656942/1/) (Gundam Seed), by kuonji  
>      [The Hangover](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1119646/) (2009 movie)  
>      [Waiting For The Weird](http://archiveofourown.org/works/18816) (Due South), by kindkit  
>      [Hat Trick](http://ds-flashfiction.livejournal.com/657254.html) (Due South), by sionnain


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